


Bounty

by ydysprosium



Category: Deathstroke the Terminator (Comics), Nightwing (Comics)
Genre: Day 3: Bounty on Robins, Gen, M/M, Mercenaries, slade robin week 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-28
Updated: 2020-10-28
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:42:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27252862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ydysprosium/pseuds/ydysprosium
Summary: Dick hasn't dressed up as Robin in a long time, but to keep his brothers safe, he just might.SladeRobin week, Day 3: Bounty on Robins
Relationships: Dick Grayson/Slade Wilson
Comments: 8
Kudos: 70
Collections: SladeRobin Week 2020





	Bounty

**Author's Note:**

> Day 3 prompt: Bounty on Robins

Dick wouldn’t quite consider himself friendly with Deathstroke the Terminator, but they did have a mutual understanding of sorts. Which was why Dick tensed then relaxed when he came home after patrol to find Slade clunking around in Dick’s tiny underused kitchen. Slade was leaning against the counter, finishing a bag of chips. Chips that would have made up a large portion of Dick’s after-patrol meal, if he was being honest with himself. 

“Just make yourself at home, let me know if you want me to order more food,” Dick quipped, squeezing past Slade to get the box of leftovers in the fridge. 

Only, there was no box of leftovers in the fridge, and there was no nearly expired milk or stale cookies either. Dick stared at the empty shelves for a moment, trying to make sense of what had happened. Would Slade even eat five-day old pizza mixed with mac and cheese? Dick had his doubts, but the evidence was staring him right in the face. “You ate the rest of my food?” Dick managed after a long pause. “Why?”

Slade grunted and neatly rolled up the empty chip bag. “Nothing in that fridge was edible. Consider it a gift that I cleaned everything up for you.”

Dick’s stomach grumbled and he felt fatigue start to set into his limbs. He was way too tired to fight Slade over moldy left-overs. “Fine,” he said, leaning against the fridge and staring at Slade. “What do you want?”

“I came here to do you a favor,” Slade said. I’ve recently accepted a contract and thought you would appreciate knowing the details.”

Dick folded his arms. “I think we both know I won’t let you kill anyone in my town.”

Slade threw back his head and laughed. “Oh, it’s not a murder contract, my client wants the person in question delivered alive, minor injuries okay.”

Dick was starting to feel light-headed from lack of food. He seriously needed to figure out what Slade wanted, then figure out a meal. Hopefully Slade hadn’t cleaned the cereal out of his cupboards. He rubbed the side of his head. “And why would I need to know about you kidnapping someone?”

“Because,” Slade said, leaning in closer, invading Dick’s personal space, “my contract is for a Robin, any Robin. Former Robins acceptable.”

Dick swallowed heavily and leaned back. “I’m not Robin anymore-”

“Really?” Slade raised an eyebrow. “I guess I’ll have to hunt one of the younger ones down then. By the way, my client only needs one alive, if anything unfortunate should befall the others, it’s no concern of theirs.”

Dick clenched his fist. He was way too tired to take Slade on in a fight now, but he had to at least try. “Why are you telling me this?”

Slade shrugged. “I thought you might be persuaded to make things easy for me. There’s several ways tonight can go: We can fight, I can injure you and if you manage to escape, then I’ll go hunt down a smaller Robin, I can injure you and bring you in, or you can make things easy for both of us by letting me bring you in.”

Dick slumped against the fridge. He knew what the right decision was, the one that kept his brothers safe. And as much as he hated to admit it, the chances of winning against Slade right now were almost nonexistent. Surely whoever had contracted Slade would be easier to get away from than Slade. He hoped. “Who is your client?” Dick asked, stalling for time on the difficult decision he knew he had to make.

“Nobody important,” Slade said. “I would have charged more if I thought they wanted to permanently injure or kill you.”

Dick shuddered. He didn’t trust Slade, and he didn’t trust whoever had hired him. Obviously, his best course of action was to warn the rest of the family, and make sure Slade didn’t go after his younger brothers. Which meant playing along with Slade, for now. “If I go with you, how are they supposed to know I’m Robin?”

Slade smirked at Dick. “What you don’t have an old costume around?”

\--

As it turned out, Dick did have an old costume in his closet. It had been a few years since he’d last worn it, and he’d put on some muscle since then. So much so that he was having doubts about being able to squeeze himself into the green shorts.

Slade loomed in the doorway, an amused glint in his eye.

“A little privacy?” Dick said, holding the outfit up.

“And give you an opportunity to escape or alert the others?” Slade shot back. “No, I’m being far too generous already.”

Dick grumbled, slipped out of his Nightwing outfit, then Pulled the pieces of his old Robin outfit on. It definitely fit a lot tighter than he remembered, and it was almost a workout to pull the green shorts up his thighs, and they definitely didn’t cover as much skin as he remembered. He attached the cape, and glared at Slade. “Now what?”

Slade stepped closer. “Now I make things look realistic, then tie you up.”

“What, I don’t have enough bruises and scratches from patrol already?” Dick quipped, glancing over at the phone on the top of his nightstand. If he could just manage to get a quick message out before Slade tied him up-

Dick grunted as Slade shoved him into the wall hard enough to leave a dent large enough to certainly upset his landlord. He twisted out of his grip, and kicked the side of Slade’s knee hard enough to make him wince.

“What are you doing?” Slade demanded as Dick rolled with one of Slade’s punches and pulled him over a mound of dirty clothes fast enough that he fell face-first onto the floor.

“Making it look realistic,” Dick said as he hurried over to his phone and tapped out a quick message and sent it to Bruce.

Slade angrily snatched the phone from his hand and glared at it. Then his expression changed to confusion. “Is this some kind of code?” he growled.

Dick looked at the message he’d just sent, and realized with a sinking feeling that he had just sent a bunch of puppy emojis. Hopefully Bruce would be suspicious enough to look into things. “I uh, wanted to send Bruce some puppy emojis?”

“You know what? I don’t even care,” Slade said and tossed the phone into a corner. “After I hand you over, you and your family will be that person’s problem.”

A brief struggle later, and Slade tied Dick up tight enough that it hurt, and hoisted him over one shoulder.

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” Dick said as he struggled to get comfortable and felt Slade’s hand resting on the back of his upper thighs.

“Maybe,” Slade said, voice tinged with amusement as he headed out the door.


End file.
